As A Result Of Being Almost Constantly Exposed To Gunfire, Karma Suffers From Hyperacusis Which Is A

As a result of being almost constantly exposed to gunfire, Karma suffers from hyperacusis which is a reduced tolerance for sounds. She has difficulty holding conversations, staying in loud places for too long because every sound merges into one distorted noise, causing her headache and messing up her otherwise sharp senses. On top of that, her hearing has always been great as she was/is a bounty hunter and wasn't looking for finding herself on the wrong end of a barrel.

She almost always speaks softly, calm; cold even when angry. Rarely raises her voice, let alone shouts; mostly hisses loudly in irritation if her horse isn't near. When she does shout/yell, it is probably due to being overwhelmed by noise she can't stand anymore. Or someone managed to piss her off to a level of no coming back

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She stayed silent, not feeling any need to uncover any part of her story, perfectly content with leaving Villám's origins in the shadows. The stares was what she grew used to, the occasional comments...those were the times when she had to remind herself that she's retired.

“Wrong wording on my part.” well, she wasn't exactly social and thought a bent barrel was an already obvious setback “ The bolt is an another problem I realized as I've cleaned and oiled it for nothing.” voice bordering on a growl now “It fires now, but the ejector channel was filled with rust which resulted the bolt not closing on a live round at first. Even now the movement isn't smooth nor fast enough for my style.” good to know the already obvious that the old imp was such a traditional believer of getting rid of those damned animals using the common method.

“The curve is something I could've worked with, but it compared with the defective bolt is too much even for me. So this can go back to being a now polished table leg or whatever it was.”

The being only stared with an occasional twitch of her facial muscles at the offer and the audacity, a struggle to keep the darkness always wanting to creep out firmly locked inside. She didn't want to inflict anything permanent...yet.

“So you slither here unannounced and unwanted, insult me by pointing out a flaw which even my horse can see,” Villám quietly neighed in agreement “graciosly offer to not take my payment for the bloody job I've been hired to do.” Karma quite literally hissed, discarding the faulty rifle for her own revolvers in pristine condition, half of her attention already trained on the growing noise and the dry rattling of crops

“Still yes, pick your carcass. Villám is built for speed anyway, not for transporting them.” the tiny hill gave her the upper hand in vision, one of the largest already feasting

“Shut up, don't get in my way, don't question my choices, don't go near my horse and let me work in peace.” the ivory haired woman named her terms quickly before the swift and silent ascend. She needed a clear head, it was almost completely dark and the soon to be targets were moving. A deep breath, the familiar feeling of both of her beloved revolvers; screw Old Jack and his relic rifle. She's not going to roll in the mud with animals.

The first shot a thunder in the previous silence, the sickly green bullet going through the hog's eye; by the time it dropped dead, the trick had been performed again from a different angle she maneuvered herself into. The rest decided to flee back into the night, her left eye briefly turning empty white to sense the direction they ran.

“You've got two to pick from. Get rid of its head as quickly as possible along with any discolored meat.” Karma warned “For the rest, I'm going on a hunt. Alone.”

deathshadowed​:

The faintest twitch of her eyebrow at the admission of sneaking up; no shit. She listened silent and blank, unmoving except a brief flick of eyes quicker than a blink to assess him fully. She still could feel unease radiate from Villám by the newcomer’s presence, their connection survived even death.

“Nyugalom.” (Easy.) her tone warm and even to calm the horse, dismounting with one fluid motion, not in the slightest quiver in her aim. The emerald flame eyed mare gracefully took shelter behind her rider, more reason to assess the stranger a bit harshly than she usually did.

“You are rather calm despite a weapon pointed at you. At this range even if I wasn’t the best shot around I wouldn’t miss.” she stated, the conclusion that he must be used to situations like this, unsaid “If you were approaching with the hope of a quick roll, then you already would be bolting halfway through the field screaming every possible curse.”

The rifle releasing the imp from its crosshairs at last, but not exactly set aside.

“What I don’t know yet is why my horse is so uneasy in your presence.” the other crosshair hasn’t lifted from him; the scar around her eye emitting a faint green glow in the approaching dusk

“Karma.” she replied, soon she was gone, no need to go into details why she was new

“The owner, Old Jack has a hellhog problem nobody took care of. That’s what I’m doing here. With a weapon maintenance as bonus. It still pulls a bit to the right though. My guess that the bolt has been damaged, deformed or simply eroded.” acid green eyes gestuted at the old hunting rifle given by the owner for the task; she still hit the mark with weapons in worse condition, she only needed a few adjustments to her aim to accommodate the faulty weapon

Striker had been on the working end of a rifle plenty of times to know the feel of squeezing the trigger at someone, and on the business end to know how to get himself away from the wrath that held the trigger hostage, that and a healthy feel of living on borrowed time made him more than careless, almost to the point of scary, letting people think he might be more powerful than a simple imp.

“Because it ain’t a horse of Wrath, how ya got one down here surprises me almost as much as I did you, not many got a connection like that.” He’d look down at the gun and give a quick laugh, the gun was in terrible condition.

“See he gave ya a gun that’s older than he is, that relic from the imp uprising… If it were the bolt, you’d not be able to fire that thing, If it bends to the right, it’s the bore. I could even see from where ah stood that the barrel was bent, he’d probably used it to prop up somethin’.” Striker knew his way around guns, having spent most of his life with them it was second nature to him to diagnose them, he could have been a successful gunsmith if he had chosen a more relaxing career choice.

“Unless ya got a hammer forge, that thing won’t shoot straight no matter how hard ya bend or push, but it ain’t obstructed, so ya shots will fly.” He’d look between Karma and her horse, raising a brow at exactly how it seemed they were wary of him. He’d take a few steps back and keep his tail low to the ground, hoping that with less of him, they’d relax more.

“If he’s got an issue with boars, I can help, the reason why ah came over here in the first place, and consider it a friendly gesture, ah won’t even take any of the rewards he might want to give you for the job, long as ah get my pick of a boar once we’re done, sounds good?”

The Evermore-Grimoire: Elemental Powers

Umbrakinesis is the power to create, shape and manipulate darkness as well shadows. By itself, darkness it’s mostly used to cloud everything into total darkness, but by accessing a dimension of dark energy it can be channeled to a variety of effects, both as an absence of light or as solid substance such as being able to project beams/ rays of darkness. Those who wield this power can also control and manipulate beings that dwell in the shadows, can create and dispel shields of darkness, as well as create constructs, weapons and even teleport long distances through shadows.

@deathshadowed at Vaggie

“You look like how probably I did before I killed the priest responsible for my parents' murder.” the gunslinger stated almost nonchalantly, despite she wasn't the one to share information so personal like an afternoon conversation

Karma didn't push further nor asked, she could offer both a shoulder and a charity gun for hire if needed.

Appropriate death would greet her now. If she were to die she would be fine with it, her mind has shut down all emotion probably because if she did feel it all she'd break down completely. Whenever she felt something she felt it hard, be it anger, sadness or pure self loathing. Yet her mind didn't register any of it.

How does she look? Like a broken woman? A girl who realized she made the worse fucking mistake of her life? A hot mess spiraling? Or does she look just as empty as she felt? Was she a husk floating among the endless forever blowing wind?

She looks the woman in her eye, silent for a bit before speaking. "I've lost everything, my best friend fucked the man who tortured me, the cause I dedicated my life to is a joke, I have no home, no friends and nothing to my name."

She wasn't Lieutenant Vagatha, Patron Saint. She wasn't Vaggie the protector of the Hotel, she wasn't Vagatha Rodriguez with a loving mother and siblings that admired to her, she wasn't Lady V mistress of the night with several male suitors. She wasn't anyone any more.

"......What do I do now?" Came the genuine, confused answer. Everytime she found something or someone, be a cause, a friend, a lover, family, anything. It always betrayed her, left her, or was a foolish ideal full of false hope.

She didn't even know what she wanted from the woman, validation that leaving was the right choice? Maybe just someone to say every will be okay?

Vengeance might be an option but she doesn't want to spare the hotel anymore thought. She doesn't want to give Adam anything not even her hatred anymore. Indeed, what does she do now?